Taking the seat indicated, Nancy thought: They keep calling me a girl. I'm older than any of them. But now Lydia, taking the cue from her mother, said: 'You know, there's a way you could attend the university,' and Mrs. Ross added: 'Alaska needs ... in fact, we all need bright young people who will bring modern ways to everything.'
Aware that this sounded condescending, she hurried on: 'Like Mr. Venn ... managing this factory.' Nancy lost the analogy, for she was looking across the room at Tom, in such a way that Lydia Ross knew instantly that the Indian girl was in love with him.
Tom said: 'Mrs. Ross told me it would be a privilege to meet you, and I assured her she wouldn't be disappointed.'
Now Nancy was ready to speak: 'Are you the wife of the man who owns this cannery?'
'I am."
'Well, you should tell him that he mustn't stop my people from fishing in our Pleiades as we've always done.'
Mrs. Ross, surprised by this frontal attack but not unnerved by it, turned to Tom and asked: 'Is what she says true?' and Tom had to explain that under the law, when a cannery obtained the right to place its trap at the confluence...
'It's wrong, Mrs. Ross, and it ought to be stopped. My family has fished this river for more than fifty years.' She continued with such a strong statement about native rights that Mrs. Ross found herself agreeing, but in the end she put a stop to it:
'Nancy, we wanted to find out two things. Would you like to attend the university?
Have you done well enough in school to succeed if you do go?'
'I don't really know what a university is, Mrs. Ross. But my teachers keep telling me that I could go if I wanted to.'
After this frank self-assessment, Mrs. Ross began asking a series of questions calculated to identify the level of the girl's learning, and both she and Lydia were surprised at the mature manner in which Nancy responded. She apparently knew several good works of literature and had a much better than average knowledge of American history. She knew what the Sistine Chapel was and how an opera was structured.
But when Mrs. Ross asked about algebra and geometry, Nancy said frankly: 'I'm not very good in arithmetic,' and Lydia chimed in: 'Neither was I,' but Mrs. Ross would not allow this easy escape: 'If you want to be first-class, Nancy, you really ought to know about proportions and how to solve for simple unknowns,' and Nancy replied with disarming frankness: 'That's what Miss Foster keeps saying.'
Mrs. Ross was disturbed to learn from Nancy and Tom that few Indian children ever persisted past grade six and that Nancy was the first Tlingit girl ever to reach senior year. 'She's set a good standard,' Mrs. Ross said, and Tom was as pleased as if he had been one of Nancy's teachers.
At this point no one doubted that Nancy could survive in a university, and Lydia said that she was already better educated than many sophomores: 'You could have a great time at the university, Nancy,' and Mrs. Ross assured both Nancy and her father that a scholarship of some kind would be forthcoming: 'It isn't that she needs the university. The university needs her.' But it was obvious that Nancy, who would be the first of her kind ever to undertake such a bold adventure, was uncertain about such a move.
'I don't know,' she said diffidently, but her father, proud of her deportment this day, said to no one in particular: 'If free, she take it,' and Mrs. Ross said quickly:
'Not exactly free. Could you help her with small funds?' and Sam said: 'I do now,' and everyone laughed.
At the conclusion of the interview, which had gone better than anyone had expected, the Ross family reached a decision which both surprised and exhilarated Tom Venn.
Mrs. Ross announced: 'When the Montreal Queen stops by on its return trip this evening, I'm sailing to Seattle as planned. But Lydia tells me she wants to stay here a few days and catch our R&R supply boat on Friday.' Before anyone could comment, she turned to Sam: 'Mr. Bigears, could my daughter stay with your family till the ship comes? She certainly can't stay here with Mr.
Venn.' She said this disarmingly, with such easy grace that everyone was placed at ease, and Sam asked Lydia: 'You ready for real Tlingit potlatch?' and Lydia replied:
'I don't know whether you eat it or sleep in it, but I'm ready.' So when the Canadian ship arrived, she remained on the dock with Nancy and Tom as her mother boarded.
Mrs. Ross was even more congenial than before as she stopped at the head of the gangway:
'Thank you, Mr. Bigears, for watching over my daughter. We'll see you in Seattle in September, Nancy. Tom, you've been a gracious host. And all you good people who work at the cannery, God bless you. We need your help.'
THE MONTREAL QUEEN, PRIDE OF THE CANADIAN LINE which sailed out of Seattle to Vancouver and the Alaskan ports, was more than 245 feet long, weighed a majestic 1,497 tons and was legally authorized to carry 203 passengers. But because many tourists wanted transportation to Seattle as the summer season drew to a close, on this trip she carried in hastily erected wooden bunks a total of 309 paying passengers plus a crew of 66. All but two spaces had been filled when the ship left Juneau on its homeward leg, and when it stopped at Totem Cannery to pick up the two Ross women, Mrs. Ross explained that even though Lydia would not be sailing with her, the Rosses would pay for two passages.
The purser took the problem to Captain Binneford, who said that in view of Mr. Malcolm Ross's close affiliation with the line, no charge would be made for the unused quarters.
The ship left Totem Cannery in the silvery dusk of a late August day, and because it was somewhat behind schedule, it traveled rather faster than usual in an attempt to make up time and beat the ebbing tide past the rocky portions of the upper inlet.
Captain Binneford knew well for the route had been carefully spelled out by the revenue cutter service years before and partially marked by them that in passing the Walrus it was obligatory to keep well to the west, that is, to keep the rock safely to port, and this he did, but for some reason never to be known, he cut the margin of safety, and at half after seven on Wednesday night, 22 August 1906, while there was still ample light, this fine ship plowed headlong onto a submerged ledge which reached out from the Walrus. The bow of the ship was punctured, and its forward speed was so great that a gash eighty-two feet long was made down the port side. Almost instantly the Montreal Queen was wedged onto the Walrus, its gaping wound exposed as the tide went out.
Mrs. Ross was still unpacking when the speeding ship slammed abruptly onto the ledge, and she was thrown forward, but she was such an agile woman that she protected herself and was not hurt. She was one of the first on deck and the one who best understood what had happened, for she assured her fellow passengers: 'My husband runs a shipping company in these waters, and accidents like this do happen. But we have wireless, and other ships will hasten to rescue us.' She saw no reason for fear, and said so repeatedly.
However, as she was speaking, Captain Binneford was sending and receiving messages which would exert a powerful effect on the fate of the Montreal Queen, for when his company headquarters received news of the grounding, they sent a reply which would become famous in Alaskan history:
IF DAMAGE NOT TOTALLY DISABLING, YOU ARE ORDERED TO AWAIT ARRIVAL ONTARIO QUEEN SPEEDING TO RESCUE ALL PASSENGERS. WILL ARRIVE FRIDAY SUNSET.
Had Mrs. Ross been allowed to see this message, she would, as the wife of a ship owner, have understood its implications, for what the parent company was doing was ordering the captain of the stricken ship not to allow any salvage effort by ships of another line or by adventuresome seamen based in Juneau or Ketchikan. Maritime law was such that if a disabled ship allowed any other vessel to aid it, that other craft established a vested interest in the wreck. In this case, easing the Queen off the rocks or towing her back to Juneau would be interpreted as providing help, which qualified for a share in the salvage.
If the Montreal Queen could hold on till her sister ship, the Ontario Queen, arrived from Vancouver, the Canadian company would save considerable money. And when Captain Binneford studied the condition of his shi
p, he made the gambling decision that it would remain safely wedged where it was throughout Thursday and Friday, by which time the Ontario Queen would arrive to carry the passengers on to Seattle. It was a risky decision, but it was not stupid, for it looked to all the officers in charge of the Queen that she was so tightly wedged that she must stay safely on the rock indefinitely.
Captain Binneford ordered his staff to so inform the passengers, who that night dined off badly tilted tables and slept in beds that kept rolling them to starboard.
News of the wreck did not filter back to Totem Cannery on Thursday morning until about an hour after word had reached Juneau, so by the time Tom Venn, Sam Bigears and others had launched all the cannery boats to effect a rescue of Mrs. Ross and all who could be crowded into the space available, many small boats from Juneau were already at the scene. Just as Tom and Bigears arrived at the Walrus, a coastal boat of some size which had been unloading at Juneau steamed up, enabling Sam to announce:
'We got enough boats here, rescue everybody.' It was agreed that they would whisk Mrs. Ross back to Totem, where she could wait for the Friday arrival of the R&R supply ship.
But when the various vessels from the big one which had just arrived to the smallest boat from Totem approached the stranded Montreal Queen they became enmeshed in that insane law. To protect his company from salvage claims, Captain Binneford refused to allow even one person, passenger or crew, to leave his ship into the care of another vessel, regardless of its size. This meant that the 309 passengers of the Queen could line the railing of their badly damaged ship and almost touch hands with their would-be rescuers, but they could not leave the ship to accept help.
Tom and Bigears located Mrs. Ross quickly, where she stood in the midst of many women passengers, assuring them that rescue was imminent; of all the women she showed the least strain. When she saw Bigears, she cried: 'Oh, Mr. Bigears! You are a most welcome sight.' And she started below to fetch her bags so that she could be one of the first off.
'I'm sorry, madam,' a polite Canadian officer apologized as he barred her way. 'No one can leave the ship.'
'But our cannery boat is alongside. It's our boat. It's our cannery, just a few miles back there.'
'I am most sorry, and so is Captain Binneford, but no one can leave the ship. We're responsible for your safety. Your rescue is imminent.'
Mrs. Ross, unable to understand the stupidity of such a rule, demanded to see the captain, but the officer told her, reasonably: 'Surely you appreciate the strain he's under. He has enough to do to work with the crew.' And she was forbidden even to throw her luggage into Tom's boat lest the legal position of the steamship company be compromised.
Tom and Bigears remained at the wreck all that Thursday, trusting that somehow common sense would prevail, but none did, and when a second even larger would-be rescue ship from Juneau arrived on the scene, and men from the various small craft climbed aboard to learn from its captain what the situation was, they were told: 'If we were allowed to take off all the passengers, it might cost the Canadian company as much as two thousand dollars.'
'Wouldn't the salvage rights to the ship itself also be involved?'
'Never. We're talking about two thousand dollars, at most.'
Without hesitation Tom Venn cried: 'I'll put up the two thousand,' and half a dozen others volunteered to contribute, for as one sailor accustomed to these waters warned:
'You can never tell when that Taku Wind will come roaring out of Canada. We better get them off before sunset.'
So the captain of the new arrival, the captain of the earlier ship and Tom Venn as representative of the Ross & Raglan line decided to approach Captain Binneford by bullhorn, and Tom served as spokesman in offering to pay all costs involved in disembarking the passengers immediately. Binneford refused even to consider the proposal, because in the meantime he had received a second set of instructions from the home office assuring him that the Ontario Queen would arrive at the Walrus two hours earlier than previously estimated. The wireless message had ended:
ALL PASSENGERS WILL BE SAFELY ABOARD ONTARIO BY FOUR FRIDAY AFTERNOON.
Tom, feeling a personal responsibility for Mrs. Ross, remained near the stricken ship, because he still felt that Captain Binneford, whom he had found to be a sensible man during their brief acquaintance on the run from Ketchikan to Totem, would want to ensure his passengers' safety, regardless of instructions which might endanger them, and he wanted to be on hand to protect Mrs. Ross. He therefore sent Sam Bigears back to the cannery in another Totem boat, with instructions to assure Lydia that her mother was going to be all right.
But Sam's craft had barely left the stricken ship when a brisk wind came speeding down the inlet from Canada, and two experienced sailors warned: 'If this continues, we could have a full-scale Taku,' and because Sam was cautious where gales were concerned, he swung his boat in a full circle and headed back to be ready to disembark passengers if the winds worsened.
In her creaking quarters that Thursday night Mrs. Ross, along with quite a few other passengers, penned notes to relatives. Hers was to Lydia:
This adventure proves one thing to me, and I hope it does to you too, Lydia. No disaster, and the wrecking of this ship is a disaster, justifies you to act stupidly. In fact, at such times you ought to act with superhuman intelligence, and I trust you will always do so.
It is stupid to keep us passengers trapped on this ship, even if there is a modicum of assurance that the other ship will get here in good time. It is stupid to allow a few dollars to obstruct the operation of ordinary intelligence. And it is always very stupid, Lydia, to allow one minor consideration to obscure the right decision regarding a major concern. If we get off this pathetic craft alive, which I begin to doubt, I shall want your father, with the most ardent support from me, to see to it that Captain Binneford never again sails in Alaskan waters, for his behavior tonight as the winds begin to rise is indefensible.
Yes, the wind has picked up considerably and the boat is creaking much more loudly than before. I see a dish start to move across my table as I write, and instead of stopping, it picks up speed. But I am glad I made this trip with you, Lydia. I think we both saw young Mr. Venn in new lights, and they were neither favorable nor unfavorable, just new. That Nancy Bigears is a gem, lecturing me before I could offer my help.
See that she does well at the university. And take care of yourself. Make right choices and defend them.
I'm far less apprehensive than this letter sounds. I'm sure we'll be rescued tomorrow.
When she went to the railing to throw her letter, properly weighted, down to Tom, an officer tried to prevent her from doing so, again saying the legal position of the ship would be compromised, but she pushed him away and said harshly: 'For God's sake, young man, don't be a damned fool.'
When Bigears reached the scene he sought Tom's boat, but could not find it among the scores of little craft eager to rescue the passengers, but later he saw Tom talking with Mrs. Ross, who was leaning down from the railing. Not wanting to alarm her with the news he was bringing, he waited till she withdrew, then he climbed into Tom's boat: 'I fear. So do men at cannery.'
'What's up?'
'Taku Wind comes. No doubt about it.'
'Big enough to push the Queen off the rocks?'
'If water rises, maybe.'
'Any chance?'
'Maybe yes.'
So Tom and Bigears moved among the waiting boats till they reassembled the two captains who had consulted with Captain Binneford earlier that day, and Tom told them: 'Sam Bigears here has lived on Taku Inlet all his life. Knows it better than anyone. And he says ... Tell them, Sam.'
'Big Taku Wind coming. Maybe before sun rise."
'For sure.'
'And there'll be a pretty high tide too,' said Tom.
The two captains needed no more information. Keeping Tom and Bigears with them, they moved close to the Queen and shouted: 'We want to talk with Captain Binneford.'
'He's b
usy.'
One of the captains grew angry: 'You tell that stupid bastard he better get unbusy and come talk with us."
'He wants no further interference.'
'He's goin' to get it. Because one hell of a big Taku Wind is goin' to blow his ass right off that rock.'
When the young officer refused to interrupt Captain Binneford, the captain grew furious, whipped out a revolver, and fired two quick shots over the Queen.
This brought Captain Binneford on the run: 'What's going on, Mr. Proud fit?"
'Trouble,' the leader in the rescue boat shouted. 'Captain, there's a big wind risin'.
You better get everyone off your ship.'
'The Ontario Queen will be here by four tomorrow afternoon.'
'It may find you missing.'
Captain Binneford started to leave the railing, but now the second captain shouted at him: 'Captain, this man here has lived on Taku Inlet all his life. He knows, and he says there's danger of a real big wind.'
In the darkness Captain Binneford, shaken by these words, stared at the man in the boat below as if he were prepared to listen, but at that moment Tom held a lantern to Bigears' face, and when the Canadian skipper saw that Sam was a Tlingit, he turned on his heel and left.
But Sam was correct in his estimate of this wind, because by midnight it had risen so sharply that most of the really small boats, whose skippers knew these waters, had headed for the safety of a protected cove north of Walrus Glacier. Tom and Sam felt they had to stay close to the Queen in case the captain came to his senses, but by three in the morning the blasts out of Canada were so powerful that Bigears warned: 'If we not go, we sink too,' so against his will Tom headed his boat toward a cove south of Walrus Glacier.